My Husband Caught Me Having an Affair - Chapter 164

“Why would you think that…?”

“Just a hunch.”

Gabriel did not respond. Ethan silently watched his slightly bowed head before speaking again.

“I’ve long suspected that Girard was behind my father’s death. But I could never find proof. Now, finally, my long-standing doubts have been cleared. I think I can finally stand before my father’s grave without shame.”

“…Your Grace, I…”

“It’s alright. Even if you were the agent involved, I have no intention of doing anything to you in the name of vengeance. Thanks to you, we’ve finally proven Marlon Girard’s crimes. Doing anything else wouldn’t be right.”

Ethan looked at Gabriel as he continued, “I’m grateful to you. For standing up for Dumont—and… for helping Camille all this time.”

“……”

“Without you, none of this would have turned out as it has.”

It was true. Without him, perhaps he would have gone through life never truly seeing Camille.

Consumed by contempt and indifference, they might have lived as hollow spouses for the rest of their days—without even a trace of suspicion or regret.

Even though it was a future that had never come to pass, just imagining it sent a chill down his spine.

So forgiving Gabriel was nothing.

Not when he considered the happiness he had gained because of him.

“Thank you, Blanchard.”

“…No, I should be the one thanking you. I had been waiting for the moment to finally reveal everything… to atone,” Gabriel said in a low voice.

Ethan slowly nodded, then turned and climbed into the carriage.

Gabriel silently watched as the carriage rolled away into the distance.

He recalled the conversation he had shared with the Duchess of Dumont a few days earlier:

“Please become my informant.”

“Yes. Of course, I intend to share all the information I have.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Until now, I’ve been countering Girard’s plots through an informant inside their ranks. But due to circumstances, I can’t reveal their identity. So I need you to pretend you’ve always been my informant in front of Ethan.”

It was a strange request.

Gabriel himself had been curious. Who was that informant?

After receiving the letter from the Duchess, he had begun a personal investigation into her. That was why he had delayed responding to her initial contact.

Recently, House Dumont had been winning back-to-back victories in the intelligence war against Girard. Considering how long they had been on the defensive, it was a remarkable feat.

According to the Duchess, it had all been thanks to an informant inside Girard—someone whose identity not even the Duke of Dumont knew. The Duchess alone.

What shocked Gabriel most was that this informant even knew he was still alive.

Of course, he had always thought it was possible someone might eventually discover the truth. But the informant hadn’t reported it to Marlon. He had kept it to himself and shared it only with the Duchess.

‘Was there another like me, someone disillusioned with Girard?’

And unlike Gabriel, that person had chosen to stay and fight rather than run.

It was humbling, but also admirable.

He had tried suggesting a few possible names, but the Duchess had only shaken her head, saying she couldn’t say.

Now that the House of Girard stood on the brink of destruction, Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder if there was any reason to keep the informant’s identity secret.

But if that was the person’s will, then it deserved to be respected—especially considering the achievements and risks he had taken.

“But… will it be alright? I’ve been away from the intelligence division for a long time, so I don’t know anything about current internal matters. There’s bound to be inconsistencies if I pose as the informant.”

“It’s okay. I’ll say that you’ve been working in coordination with someone still on the inside. We’ll only need to match a few details.”

The Duchess continued calmly, “He said he was shocked when he found out you saved Eric. It was something that brought you no benefit—and could have gotten you killed. That’s why he kept watching you. Even when everyone thought you were dead, he knew the truth.”

“I see…”

“Yes. He asked me to thank you. He said he could never have found the courage if not for you. That this day was possible thanks to you.”

“……”

At the Duchess’s words, Gabriel felt a shiver of emotion run through him.

He had always harbored a sense of shame for having only ever thought of survival, so those words were an immense salvation to him—especially since he had recently come to feel a vague respect for the informant.

If possible, he wanted to meet him in person, to find out who he was, and to express his thanks and appreciation.

But knowing that was only his own selfish desire, Gabriel simply gave a silent nod.

“…Understood. As I said earlier, I’ll do anything I can.”

“Thank you, Monsieur Blanchard.”

At some point, the rain had lightened.

Gabriel squinted slightly at the sun peeking through the clouds, then stepped out from under the roof. He still had one last task to fulfill—his promise to the Duchess of Dumont.

***

Several days later, the trial resumed.

The Emperor declared in court that Marlon Girard had been behind the assassination of the previous Duke of Dumont, Philip.

“Duke Marlon Girard has abused his power to commit countless crimes unbefitting a noble of Alveni. Among them, some—such as the assassination of the previous Duke of Dumont—are especially heinous, and it is only right that he be severely punished. Therefore, I hereby strip Marlon Girard of his ducal title and confiscate all lands and property attached to it. Upon capture, he shall be imprisoned in the Imperial Capital Prison for ten years.”

The Emperor delivered his sentence in a solemn voice.

Given Marlon’s age, a ten-year sentence was effectively a life sentence. That is, assuming he was ever caught.

“His son, Thierry Girard, while not directly involved in his father’s crimes, is guilty of perjury before the throne. For that, I sentence him to two years in prison.”

Gabriel Blanchard and Mathieu Anglade, while involved in crimes, were ultimately agents following orders. And crucially, they had surrendered voluntarily and testified. Thus, their sentences were waived.

But Toma Reggiani was different. Though his actions had stemmed from a misunderstanding, he had once singlehandedly massacred an entire organization. He himself had also wished to atone.

As a result, he was sentenced to five years.

Nicolas met with Gabriel and heard the full story of his mother’s death.

Gabriel bowed his head in apology, saying that had he been brave enough sooner, he might have been able to prevent her death.

Nicolas said nothing in return.

He only stared at the bowed Gabriel with a hardened expression.

Then he turned and left. He neither said it was alright, nor that he couldn’t forgive him.

The very next day, Nicolas left the Dumont estate.

He didn’t say where he was going, but somehow, everyone seemed to know.

‘He’s probably going to visit his mother’s grave.’

Nicolas’s mother had been buried in a small foreign village where she had first fled with her son.

No one knew what future awaited him.

Still, one thing was certain—it was far better than the original story, where he died a tragic death still clinging to illusions about his father, Marlon.

***

Two days after the trial ended.

Ethan summoned Mael and Jacques and said, “Although Fernand Magimel’s situation gave you a way to return, your sentences haven’t officially been lifted. You both know that, right?”

At Ethan’s words, Mael and Jacques quietly lowered their heads.

“Yes, we know.”

“We’ll accept whatever punishment you decide.”

I watched Ethan nervously from the side.

“Originally, there should be no exceptions. Anyone can make a mistake, they say—but I’ve always thought that saying was wrong. Strictly speaking, there’s no such thing as a mistake. Any wrong committed once can easily be repeated.”

“……”

Ethan paused, then continued, “But lately, I’ve changed my mind. And it’s thanks to Camille. I too made a mistake. But she gave me forgiveness and a second chance. As someone who’s received that grace, it wouldn’t be right for me to deny it to others.”

The once-strict voice had softened considerably.

Silently, I reached out and held Ethan’s hand. He turned to look at me—and smiled gently.